The News
by shinchansgirl
Summary: For WritersFunk. For Azira Morrgaine Vida. yaoislash. LEMON. HPDM, featuring both DARK and KINKY Harry. Draco receives some rather disturbing news from the boy who wouldn't die.
1. Chapter 1

The News

For: Azira Morrgaine Vida

Series: Harry Potter

Pairing: DM/HP

Request: dark!Harry

Word Count: min. 800 words (made: 1500+)

NOTE: Tsu is sorry. Tsu has lots and lots of homework. Tsu may not be getting out as fast as she hoped. Hopefully more Friday-Saturday, because Tsu is not going to be going home this weekend (gas costs too much, and she really doesn't want to start the habit of going home every weekend, either). Tsu meant to type this (as well as the next) one up and post it yesterday (which is now, technically, the day before), but she had too much homework, and Tsu didn't quite make it. Tsu's brain is now fried, as she tries to memorize Hiragana for her quiz tomorrow (which is now today). Please don't hurt Tsu. She tries. Honest.

He had thought that he'd been studying alone in one of the many student lounges spread throughout Hogwarts, especially since he'd chosen a room in one of the farther reaches of the dungeons, where he preferred to stay. When he turned to leave, however, _he_ was standing in the doorway with a smug smile on his face and leaning casually against the frame as if he hadn't a care in the world. "What do you want, Potter?" Draco snapped, slinging his knapsack over one shoulder as he eyed the dark-haired boy partially blocking his exit. He hid a wince as the books awkwardly hit his back.

The boy merely gave a shrug in response. "Not much," he said after a pause. "I'd imagine that I was only enjoying the view. I was curious to know...what _does_ Daddy dearest tell you about those meetings he has with his... 'Master', was it?"

"That is none of your business, Potter," the blonde snapped, his voice angry. And it wasn't just because he was talking to Harry Potter, either. "Now get out of my way." The blonde stalked forward, intent on shoving his way through – by means of a spell, of course – if necessary.

He stopped when the green-eyed boy spoke up again. "I don't really think that I'm going anywhere…and I doubt you'll go far, either. You see, it is very _much_ my business what you have and have not been told. It is now, anyway. Voldemort and I, we've worked out this little deal, I guess you could say. With Dumbledore now gone, there's really no need for everyone to suffer even greater losses. So he's agreed to leave me be if I leave him be…and to seal the deal we've given an…exchange, you could say. A small price for freedom."

Draco shifted where he stood, an action most unbecoming of a Malfoy, but at the moment he couldn't really care less. He didn't know why the other boy was telling him this – why he should even _care_ – but he had a bad feeling about it, and knew he didn't really want to know. That was probably what disturbed him the most. "And what does all of this have to do with what my father tells me, Potter? Or are you going to go off on another long story about your little pet peeves?"

"Tsk, tsk; you should be patient when others are talking," Harry scolded lightly, teasingly. "I'm getting to the point, just you wait. It's a fairly simple exchange, really. He wanted someone to inherit his power and his possessions after he ruled the world, yadda yadda, and finally died. I agreed to do so should he not find a more suitable choice – really messy bit of paperwork that. My price was a bit more…simplistic."

Harry cocked his head to the side, as if considering something extremely important about Draco's person. Then, with that same small smirk – which really should have been considered illegal – he said: "You'd better come with me so that we can pick out a fine collar and some nice toys…pet. If it were only up to me, I might choose something you didn't like so much."

Draco's bag fell to the floor.

Pet.

Slave.

Harry…was his master?

He needed to write his father. Now.

Draco gave himself credit for not fainting at the news as he tore out of the room and up towards the owlry, Harry's laughter following behind him. He didn't even care as he heard the Boy-Who-Lived follow him.

It had to be a cruel joke. It had to be.

-----------------------------------------------line break.

Draco was too nervous to push Harry's arms away as he awaited his father's return owl. Slaves in the wizarding world were no laughing matter – no one would even joke about it. It was one reason why Granger's arguments about the treatment of houselves were considered invalid by the wizard-raised populous.

Ever since the whole fiasco with the Romans, wizarding society had pretty much abandoned the use of slavery. A few smaller groups had remained until nearing the tenth century, but had all died out by the turn of the nineteenth.

Wizarding slaves were, after all, nothing like the muggle version. It had worked for a time – the Romans themselves were proof of that, although their use of magic had been fairly primitive, and failed them in the end – but people had moved on.

And now he was one?

It had to be a joke.

The grip around his waist kept Draco from pacing the ground to ease his nerves and frustrations, but it did nothing to keep him from alternately pouting and biting his lip. His foot was tapping a constant beat against the stone floor, as well.

And Potter's voice was beginning to grate on his nerves.

"Of course, I want the collar to be comfortable – I got lovely Severus to tell me about the nature of Wizarding slaves, and since you'll be wearing it all the time, we don't want it to chafe or anything, now would we? I was thinking maybe silk…or possibly velvet. Charmed to never come off, of course; it won't have a clasp. A silver, tag, though – gold just wouldn't be your color, now, don't you think? I'm for having it read: "Property of Harry Potter. Please return if found." Sound good to you?"

Draco would have screamed a thousand obscenities at the dark-haired boy…had he been listening.

"We'll need to go over a few things, as well. Some rules, I mean. You won't be wearing this wizard robes any more, at least. I want to see that body of yours, and for that muggle clothing is so much better, if less proper in higher wizarding society. I don't think anyone will object. I'll have to talk to the doctors too about your care; according to Snape, they won't see you unless I'm there, or if I tell them to. I'm certainly going to make sure you're treated fairly there; I am, after all, going to have to punish you if you get out of hand. We may also get a little rough if we…play around too much, and I want to know how much I can do before I need to start worrying about damage. I don't plan to get rid of you anytime soon, and I want you to be in prime condition. As I said before, though, you will have to be punished for rule-breaking, and unless dangerous – which it shouldn't be – those injuries won't be treated.'

Oh sweet goddess, where was that owl?

"I don't want anyone else to touch you, either. You're mine, and I'll make sure all of Slytherin knows it, along with the other houses.

"The hat transferred me, you know. It wanted me there to begin with, but there were too many obstacles – too many things I had to do first."

Draco growled.

Harry let out a light chuckle in response, the breath ghosting across Draco's ear. "I should see about getting you some kitty-ears, as well, and something to keep those bangs out of your eyes. The tail, well…" His hands moved to Draco's belt buckle. "I'm sure you can imagine where I want to put that." Draco paled slightly. "There's this perfect little place we could let it trail out of that would look so natural when you're laying on my bed completely naked, with only your cute little cat ears and a furry tail pouring out of-"

Draco tore himself out of the other's grip. "Get off me, Potter! What's gotten into you? I should hex you into next week just for _thinking _something like that about me – about anyone!"

"So why don't you?" Harry asked. "Or are you too afraid to act without Daddy's say-so?" No, Draco thought to himself, it's more because of what his "Daddy" may have done. Selling him off as a slave was something he could easily believe his father to be capable of. A corner of Harry's mouth quirked up, dispelling the frown. A definite bad sign, in Draco's book. "_I'm _your daddy now, if it helps to think of it that way. Except I'm a daddy that's going to have his long, hard cock shoved up your pretty little arse while you beg me to let you find release."

Oh gods…

"Which will only happen if you're a good boy."

Potter was talking _dirty_.

Not only that, but Draco was actually _enjoying_ it.

Something was definitely wrong with the world.

Harry dragged the blonde's shell-shocked body from the owlry and into some of the shops in Hogsmeade. The return owl never came, and it never would.

Both Voldemort and the elder Malfoy were dead, courtesy of one Harry Potter. The boy-who-lived was now the heir to both Gryffindor's and Slytherin's power and property, as well as that of the Malfoy's – through Draco, who had been named his state by the Ministry, per his request (he really _had_ done his research) – the Black's, and the Potter's.

Life was, for the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort, pretty darn good.

THE END

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	2. Chapter 2

The News, Part Two.  
For: Azira Morrgaine Vida, KENJIBABY, and HarlequinTemptation

Series: Harry Potter.  
Pairing: Harry/Draco.  
Request: orginal: Dark!Harry. Continuation: more about Draco's life as a slave; more from Draco's POV; shopping for the collar.  
Word count: 1000.

NOTE: I think the word count was 1000. Ff (dot) net was doing something funky to numbers in reviews, and the number I really got was 10. This chapter is close to 2000, anyways.

-I don't know that the "Draco's POV" really filtered through all that much – I tried to make it mesh, but some parts just didn't want to be written that way. So instead I made it so all the scenes focus on him, his actions, and are told with his thoughts in mind. This was the closest I could get. My apologies.

-there really is no point to the cat, I just thought it was fun.

--------------------------line break.

_This is stupid._

That's what Draco had written on his little piece of parchment, as per his master's request.

Well, what Harry had really asked him to write was what he thought of the situation, which pretty much amounted to the same thing.

"Draco, I'm serious. Do I need to be more specific?" Harry asked when he saw that his pet had only written three measly words on his paper.

"Ch," Draco – almost – snorted, looking away. "It's true."

Harry let out a sigh. "Just do it so that we can go looking for a collar. I can't _believe_ they don't sell slave collars in Hogsmead. We have to go all the way to Dove Town, and even then the shopkeeper said we may have to settle for a dog collar." Harry's face twisted into a grimace. "I may just have one custom-made."

Draco picked up the pen and wrote – it was better than listening to Harry, anyways.

_I think it's ridiculous that I'm forced into slavery by a deal made by a dead man. Pets have been gone for so long, the proper dress for them is no longer sold in shops, and so I see no reason to have to submit to it, except that the ministry has agreed to it and if I don't then I'm a dead man as well. I think Harry's a dick. He's way too manipulative for his own good, and the fools at the ministry should give up there little farce and just name him dictator, because that's really all it is. This is stupid, and I see no reason why I should be forced to be a part of it, but unfortunately I don't even have the freedom to take my own life anymore._

_Oh, and shopping. Used to be mildly tolerable, and has now descended to a level equal to the bowels of hell._

_Once more, this is stupid._

Harry glanced at the sheet, but didn't read. "At least it's not three words," he muttered, before folding up his own.

Both pieces of paper were burned in the fireplace.

Draco blinked. "And what, exactly, was the point of that."

"Hm?" Harry asked. "Oh. That. Muggle ritual for burning away bad feelings – from the ashes is born a new and better life."

Draco didn't comment. He did his best not to comment. He tried his hardest not to open his mouth. "Did I not say that this was stupid?" he finally muttered, unable to hold it in.

"Yes, but I was ignoring you. Now let's go; I want to find you a decent collar soon – I don't like you running around without a leash."

"Now I feel like a dog," Draco scoffed. Harry pretended not to hear.

--------------------------------------line break.

Dog collars. Egh. Draco turned his back to the display, letting Harry peruse the selections alone. It wasn't like this type of thing came with an instruction manual, but _please_, must they go to every animal shop in town? Dove town was known for it's fine quality and selection of animal familiars and supplies, which meant a lot of shops to go through.

Not only that, but they were missing classes, and no one seemed to notice or care.

Of course they didn't; this was Harry Potter, after all. Savior of the wizarding world.

Yeah right.

"I don't know…I don't really think I like the black. Do you think it makes his skin look too pale?"

For some reason, Draco had the childish urge to stick his tongue out. He hadn't done that in years, since his father had told the houselves to spank him for doing it in front of a guest.

That…hadn't been fun.

Draco scanned down the aisle, walking towards the end in what appeared to be a browsing manner – really he just wanted to get away from the sound of Harry's voice. He could still feel that green gaze boring into his back, and didn't leave the aisle.

God only knows what would have happened if he did.

"Meow."

Draco looked down at the soft mew, and laughed lightly at what he saw. A small brown kitten – amazingly plain for a magical cat – had somehow managed to wedge itself onto the second shelf up from the floor, and was trying to get down. Kneeling down to be at the same eye-level with it, the blonde tried to figure out why it, of all creatures, was in a magical pet shop. "Seem to be quite the misfit, don't you?" he whispered. "Can't even get off a shelf – how horribly muggle of you."

Despite his words, Draco picked the kitten up and put him down on the floor. "Now go off and find your mother, brown, before someone finds you out of your cage."

He stood up and chanced a glance back – Harry was still talking to the clerk.

"Mew."

"Shoo," Draco whispered. "Before the guy sees you."

"Draco, pet, come here," Harry's voice called out. He didn't sound too happy, but then again, the blonde had known he was wandering further than was technically allowed under Harry's so-called rules.

If it wouldn't have been against the Malfoy Codes of Conduct, Draco would have dragged his feet. As it was, he walked towards Harry with his head held high, stance clearing screaming: 'I've done nothing wrong.'

"This man here wants to sell us one of these collars – says that they'd work fine instead of custom-ordering, and would be cheaper. What do you think?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't like them, but then again that's never stopped you before."

"Hmm…you're right," Harry agreed. "You won't like any of them, even if I custom ordered one. You hate leashes. Well, I think I'll try the last shop here, then, and see what they have. If I don't like any of them, there was that one about three blocks back that would work temporarily."

"Meow."

There was silence as both the clerk and Harry stared at the brown cat that had seated itself between Draco's leg.

The clerk sighed. "The others must have gotten out again."

"The others?" Harry asked.

Draco picked up the kitten and listened in, genuinely interested. "I got a litter of woe-cats in this week. They've been going like wild-fire – only three left out of a litter of ten, and the students from the local schools haven't even had a chance to look yet. Two of them are behaving like common woe-cats, causing mischief everywhere and letting this little guy out. This one, though, was the runt of the litter, and seems to be just a plain brown kitten; no magical abilities what-so-ever when I tested him."

"Seems to have good taste, though," Harry commented, scratching between the kitten's ears and getting a deep purr out of the animal. "He likes my pet, after all. Would you be willing to part with him?"

"Of course!" the clerk said. "He's not likely to sell for as much as the others, anyway, and you are, after all, the one who defeated he who must not be named. Since he is just a plain cat, I'm willing to give him to you, absolutely free."

"Thanks so much!" Harry said with a smile. "Now my pet can have a pet."

"Of course, there are several supplies that a normal kitten will need, if you're keeping him indoors. Would you care to have a look at the selection?"

Draco sighed, rubbing idly at the kitten's ears. He didn't really want the animal, but it wasn't like he could say that in front of the shop keeper. He just wanted the day to be over with. Soon.

-------------------------------------line break.

The last shop was dark and musky – exactly the type of place where Draco's father had traveled to when he wanted to get rid of things the ministry might find questionable in nature. The blonde wondered why they were even there – the store was off from the main line of shops, and didn't sell animals at all.

He was rather disturbed by what it did sell.

"Ah, Mister Potter," came a voice from the back of the store. "I've been expecting you."

Harry nodded. "Mister Fenway, a pleasure to finally meet you face-to-face."

The man was older, his hair long but neatly kept and his back straight and rigid. He wasn't older than forty, but still held the distance of a familiar salesman. "If you'd care to have your pet wait at the register, I'll show you to the things you requested."

Draco had a very, very bad feeling about this.

--------------------------------------line break.

Draco's suspicions were confirmed when they got back to the dungeons. The kitten was left in their private bedroom as Harry used the empty common room to pack a second trunk – the one that had been Draco's, before the blonde's belongings had been added to Harry's trunk – with the store-bought items, some of which he left out.

And the dark-haired boy hadn't bought things to make Draco feel better about his situation, either.

Into the trunk went a paddle and a cane, along with a short riding crop. Draco couldn't make heads or tails of the leather belts that followed, but he could hazard a guess as to what they were for: tying down. He recognized the chainless cuffs and silk ties, both used for bed-games of the more rough nature, along with a gag, ring, and dildo. He also thought he saw Harry slip in a few other "toys", but couldn't be certain.

He kept out a set of transfig-ur-ears, cat model; a headband that would actually transfigure the wearer's ears into that of a cat's. The a-fore promised tail – a horse's tail, it looked like – was set out in a separate pile. If he was lucky, that meant Harry didn't actually plan to _use_ it anytime soon.

He hoped it was a gag-gift for Blaise, actually.

A muggle-style dog leash came out next – pointless, really, with no collar – and was kept out. A bottle of lotion went next to the tail.

He half-expected a whip, but none was removed from the box.

A pair of gloves he took out and pulled on – soft, silk gloves, from the look of it – and the last thing removed was a smaller box. Harry closed the lid to the trunk and put the small case on top. Opening it revealed a collar. Custom-made from dragon-hide, the inner-side cushioned with fur and velvet. Dragons stitched into the band. A single silver tag hung from the center: "Property of Harry Potter; Please return if found."

Harry's hand ghosted across it. "They're charmed, you know," he said casually. "The dragons, that is. They've been charmed to do certain things. They'll bite you if you start to wander off, for example. They can even move from the collar to your skin so you can see them. They can puff out fire at someone if they get too close, too. Call to me if I can't find you." He smirked. "I can watch them have at it while I'm inside you."

That was definitely an image he didn't need. Draco tried to back away, but there really wasn't anyplace he could go.

Harry took the material and stalked towards his prey. "I found the charm quite appropriate," he said, "and was pleased to note that I could have it permanently worked into the stitching."

Draco couldn't fight him as Harry wrapped strong arms around his neck, securing the collar behind his head. He felt the material weld together, creating a seamless circle as the charm activated. He couldn't feel the dragons moving, but the collar was uncomfortably warm for a moment.

Harry kissed him firmly, a move made to distract, the blonde was certain.

"Now…you're all mine."

Draco couldn't fight it. He wasn't allowed to.

He was Harry Potter's pet.

Forever.

At least he now had a friend in the kitten.

THE END.


	3. Chapter 3

The News, Part Three  
For: raga2dope, Lady-Elizabeth4242, Kaimei Jaganshi, the lil prev in your window

Series: Harry Potter  
Pairing: Harry/Draco  
Request: continue "the news"  
Word Count: n/a

NOTE: My apologies, but I didn't get to the lemon requested. There are hints to a future one though, more delicious Draco torture, and they do kiss. I didn't get to the lemon mainly because I wanted to keep some semblance of a plot, and keep to the original theme of "evil Harry". This, I think, is more cruel than Harry just raping the poor boy – which is what it would have been, had the lemon occurred so soon.

Oh, and I finally got the twins in this chapter. I've been trying to work them into something for a while now, simply because I hardly ever work with them, and they needed some love.

In other news, there is now a livejournal community called "writersfunk" where all these fics are going to be stored. They'll be sorted in the community's memories by both series and pairing for easy access, and I'm working on converting the masterlist over to LJ links, as well. All fics (even NC-17) will be open access there. For a few days, I'll be spamming your journal if you're listed as a friend, since I need to create all those entries for the fics, and for some reason you can't back-date in a community. ONLY funk fics will be posted there - news, shadow, and other stuff will still be posted under my regular account, which is linked to in my profile.

----------------------------------------line break.

Living with Harry was pure torture, Draco decided. After that terrifying declaration of ownership…nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was almost as if Draco didn't exist.

Except that the blonde _still_ had to follow Harry around everywhere, and they slept in the same bed, and Harry had this thing against sleepwear and boxers, and that horsetail hadn't been for Blaise – it'd been for Wood (which was a horrifying image, he thought as an owl carried off the package), and Draco was jumping at shadows, expecting them to hurt, and sometimes he just wished that Harry would get it _over with_ –

"Get what over with?"

Oh god, he did _not_ just say that out loud, did he?

Apparently he did, because Harry was looking at him funny, and the blonde was looking positively horrified at the possibility of what _else_ he could have been saying.

"Are you all right, pet?"

Draco nodded – he couldn't get enough breath past his mouth to form the words.

"Heya Harry," came twin voices. Draco lowered his head and put his hands to his mouth. He didn't mind mouthing off to Harry when they were alone, but if the Weasley twins were there Draco was determined to keep his mouth _shut_.

After all, there was no need to embarrass himself more than necessary.

"Fred; George," Harry greeted, nodding his head. "How are things?"

"Business is great – "

" – wonderful idea – "

" – thanks for the tip – "

" – do you think we could use chocolate – "

" – might not mix well though – "

" – oh, and by the way – "

" – did you get the – "

" – Transfig-ur-ears?"

Harry nodded, even while Draco's head was still spinning. What great idea? And what in the world would the twins be doing to _chocolate_? That, if nothing else, was a crime against humanity. "I got them when I picked up everything else. Thanks for ordering them for me."

"He's not wearing them – "

" – does that mean – "

" – he's being a good boy?"

They were laughing at him, and Draco swore – he _swore_ – he would not rise up to the bait. Glaring at them wasn't against his so-called "rules", after all.

Harry nodded, and pulled the blonde towards him by wrapping an arm around his waist. Draco jumped when he felt cool fingers running up his side under the tight shirt. "He has been such a good little boy," the green-eyed wizard agreed. "But that just means I haven't had the chance to punish him yet."

The twins were throwing each other sidelong glances, and then spoke in unison: "Sensitive."

Harry chuckled. "Yes, he is rather jumpy at times. I think I scare him."

Fred – or was it George? – shook his head. "You know, Harry, you ought to train him before midterms start."

"I hear pets can get unruly if not trained right away."

"He might try and run away."

"Wouldn't last a day in the Forest if he tried."

"Could be traumatizing, though."

"Maybe you should take him there for a while."

"Show him how it's done."

"And teach him a thing or two."

Harry laughed. "You know. That might not be such a bad idea."

"Sorry to leave you so soon, Harry."

"But we've got to go speak to the Headmistress."

"Business, you know."

Harry waved them off. "Go. Shoo. Have fun. Don't torture her too much."

"Bye Harry!"

The dark-haired boy smiled, and moved on, keeping his arm wrapped around his pet, hand under the blonde's shirt and hooked into his pants.

Draco had no choice but to follow, at a loss as to what to do with his own hands. He didn't want to upset Harry – he could just imagine what "punishment" would be for the One-Who-Defeated-Voldemort – but he didn't want to give the wrong idea to anyone else and make them think that he _liked_ this (because he didn't).

Harry pulled him into the prefect's bathroom and shoved him against the door, pushing it shut as he did.

And then Harry's lips were on his, and it was wrong, but it was sweet, and distracting, and lips weren't _supposed_ to taste like that, at least not for evil wizards like Harry, and those hands were like fire on his stomach, and his legs were all wobbly and that just wasn't normal, and he really, really needed to breathe, but Harry was still kissing and there was breath against his cheek – was Harry breathing through his _nose_? While kissing? _Gross_ – but it was warm and good, and Gods but he didn't know if he should hate this because it was Harry or want it because it just felt so good –

And then Harry was gone. Completely.

Draco panted against the door as his – master? Attacker? – undressed and began running the taps. The other boy was acting as if nothing had just happened – as if Draco wasn't there – and if it weren't for the fire aching in the pit of his stomach, not to mention the evidence muggle jeans were less fit to hide than robes, he would have passed it off as his imagination. His lips still tingled – were slightly swollen from the pressure – and his back hurt from where he'd hit the handle of the door when Harry'd shoved him against it.

Harry was sliding into the bath like he hadn't a care in the world.

The smug _bastard_. He was even _smiling_.

And Draco knew then and there that if Harry ever made a move on him – as was his _right_ – Draco wouldn't fight it.

Because, as much as he hated it and denied it, Draco wanted it too.

"Hurry up and get in the bath, pet. I'm not sticking around here all night."

The blonde gulped, and tried to will away the evidence of his arousal as he undressed. He didn't want to give Harry any reason to make a move, because he wasn't sure if he was ready for that yet.

------------------------------------line break.

Harry smirked as he watched the blonde tentatively undress and slip into the warm water, trying to hide an obvious erection. It wouldn't take much more before the blonde would submit to him – and submit willingly. A few moves here and there to open him up to the idea…soon Draco would be begging for him to take him, and once he did, Draco would be all his.

Completely and Forever.

While the reward would be satisfying, he wasn't one to deny the thrill of the chase, and of the breaking. He had plenty of time to do so, after all. The blonde wouldn't run away – he would be too scared to.

Although the thought of pounding into him in the middle of the Forbidden Forest was attractive. He wondered if he could get Aragog to call off his kids for a night, and let them have at it in his nest. It would be protected after all, since no one dared go near the giant spiders.

Perhaps if he got that farmer on the edge of Hogsmeade to chase deer _towards_ the forest instead of away from it…

THE END.


	4. Chapter 4

THE NEWS, Part Four.  
For: Lady-Elizabeth4242, Celeste Jacobs, Baroque Isabella, FallenTruth, HarlequinTemptation, The Real Jackie-O

Series: HP  
Pairing: HP/DM  
Request: continue "The News"  
Word Count: 1113

NOTE: for those of you pining away for it, there's a bit of a LEMON this chapter. It's a bit on the rough side though – you'll understand when you get to it.

-----------------------------line break.

Draco gasped, and froze, reigning in his terrors from the dream. He had always been able to wake easily from his dreams, which had been a good thing when he lived with his father.

But he didn't anymore.

Draco shivered, holding himself. He had always been able to crawl into his parents' bed after a bad dream, so long as he hadn't woken them up with his screams.

Now he was too afraid of punishment to even get up and wipe the sweat from his face, much less snuggle into the warmth beside him – no, that was forbidden territory.

There was a hand in his hair, petting him, and he realized that not only was he facing his master, but those green eyes were open and aware – and focused on him. "Tell me what's wrong?" It was a question, not a demand, but it still left the blonde's skin crawling.

"Just a nightmare," he said, shivering. For once, he wished that he could just ask for a hug – ask for any type of comfort at all – but he didn't say a word, just held himself tightly.

Harry pulled his slave close and turned him around so that he could hold the only slightly smaller boy in his arms. One arm was a pillow for the blonde, the other held his torso against Harry's body.

Draco was red as their naked bodies pressed together. He could feel Harry's hard member pressing against his rear, feel the rise and fall of the other boy's chest, feel the breath that moved blonde strands of hair teasingly against his face. He felt it all, and asked, shakily: "Why?"

"Why what?"

Swallowing both his pride and his fear in one saliva-filled gulp, Draco asked the question that had been demanding an answer since their first night together. "Why haven't you taken me yet? I know you want to, and it's your right to, if you want it. So why?"

It was because Harry wanted Draco to be his forever, mind and body but he did not say that; couldn't say that. "I control your actions, but I can't make you willing," he said instead. "It is my right, as you say, to rape you as I please, but Draco, who is your master?"

Draco wanted to say he was his own master. He wanted to say he would fight his enslavement to the end. But he couldn't. He couldn't, and so he said nothing.

"Until the answer to that question is undeniably Harry Potter in your mind, I would not take you. Don't let that give you false hope, though; I'm not very patient, and may decide that the wait isn't worth it."

Draco frowned, letting these thoughts overtake the nightmares of his mind. He was lying here, bare, with Harry yes – he was vulnerable and shaken still.

He felt no stirring of desire for the man who held him. There was no love for him, only fear of him – of what he might do.

"What if I was willing," he asked, voice small, "but for a different reason?"

Harry was quiet for a moment. "You want someone to chase away your fears."

Draco bit his lip and nodded.

Harry let out a sigh, and considered the situation before he spoke. "You have been behaving well, and so I will allow you this reward. Remember, though, pet, that you _chose_ this as your reward – whatever pleasure you do or do not get out of this is secondary."

Draco nodded, forcing himself to breath. He knew, as Harry rolled him onto his back, that the only pleasure he might get out of this would be what Harry granted him, but that didn't matter. He held no love for the body above him, no stirring of lust at the sight of a naked and aroused body. All he felt was the cold wash of fear, and a tensing of his belly.

He couldn't believe he was going to let the green-eyed boy do this – couldn't believe he'd asked for it.

Harry's mouth descended on his own, kissing him fiercely, plundering his mouth.

He felt his stomach tighten further, had to fight the urge to curl up and hide his face. His hands twisted in the sheets. Harry waited, not moving, until the boy beneath him relaxed. He moved on. He practically worshiped the pale body beneath him, but no response was given.

But then again, this wasn't about a response. This was the soothing of a fear – this was patience, and trust.

Harry coated his hand in a nearby lube, and slipped one single finger inside Draco's entrance.

The blonde froze, nearly crying. He was really, really scared – he wanted to get up and run, he wanted to scream – but compared to his nightmare, this was nothing. This wasn't fire and pain, this wasn't his father yelling at him – selling his soul.

This was Harry Potter, soothing his fears. This was Harry Potter, making everything slow so that he could relax, so that he could trust, so that he could move on.

Preparations were slow, but there did come a time when Draco was ready, and when his master pushed him on his back and slid the proof of his manhood inside the blonde's body.

Draco cried out, tensing, and Harry stopped. Only when the body relaxed around him did the dark-haired boy move on, and then only slowly. Draco was frustrated with himself, knowing that he was causing his own pain, knowing it was his own fears that kept him from enjoying the experience. Taking deep breaths, Draco forced his body to relax. He stopped thinking about it, let the fears wash away with his tears. When Harry pulled out, he imagined the other boy pulling out pain, when he slid in, he brought with him relief. It still hurt, it was still uncomfortable, but the fear was gone.

And the fear of his nightmares was long forgotten by the time Harry came.

He thought that would be it, but Harry didn't pull out. He felt strong arms wrap around him, squeezing him tight, and breath against his ear. "I believe I promised you a tail," he whispered, letting one hand squeeze Draco's hip lightly. "I think it's time for it."

Draco let out a whimper.

"You're too tight – I know this first time hurt. The tail will make it better."

Draco buried his face in the pillow. He knew that inviting this had been inviting trouble, but he hadn't known – couldn't have known – how much.

Harry was nuzzling a wet cheek. "Chasing away fear isn't what I wanted," the green-eyed wizard admitted, "but for now, it will do."

THE END.


	5. Chapter 5

The News, Part Five  
For: honeychild4life, Baroque Isabella, and Maurizio di Lacartes

SERIES: Harry Potter  
PAIRING: Harry/Draco  
REQUEST: continue "The News"  
WORD COUNT: 835

NOTE: Since "the end" at the end has been confusing a lot of people lately, I've been cutting it off. There will simply be another break line at the end.  
NOTE2: I've brought in more of a happy note to the fic. I know it's supposed to be evil!Harry and slave!Draco, but I wanted a fic where the slave actually enjoyed (to a certain extent) being the slave. Whelp, here goes nothing.

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_To the Higher Being, whoever you are;_

_I'd like to thank you for being a pervert. From what I'd understood of male-sex, it wasn't fun to be on the receiving end most of the time. I didn't find any pleasure last night, but I didn't get the sick feeling my father told me I would._

_I now believe my father was a right bastard, actually, and I have you to loathe for that, as well._

_The full feeling I have now doesn't make me want to loose what Harry made me eat last night, although it really does leave a strange…ache. And last night…well, now, looking back on it, I can see how some might find it pleasant. I would have probably found it pleasant as well, if not for the stupid nightmare._

_So this is to thank you for making me a pervert, for making me a foolish coward, and just about everything else you did to make my life miserable, and make me, in turn, the perfect candidate for a pet._

_I don't think I could have handled this otherwise._

_This does not, however, change the fact that I think you are a bastard, as well, and right arse for screwing me over, both figuratively and literally._

_Many happy passes, fate – may you one day have the feeling of being screwed over as well._

_-Draco._

The blonde smirked as the paper burned in the fire, the dragons dancing happily along his arms as they watched the flames. A pleasant tingle shot through him as he shifted to stand, and Draco held his bare stomach as he made his way over to the bed once more.

Harry was right – there was some satisfaction in the burning of letters to a higher being, even if it was a foul muggle practice.

The kitten twined between his legs and mewed as he moved, batting at the cloth that hung from his rear, and Draco gave in, kneeling down to pick up the kitten and put her on the bed.

It wasn't long before he feel asleep, waiting for Harry to return.

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Sometimes, Harry thought, you won what you wanted through force. That had been how he'd won the war, and defeated Voldemort. Sometimes it came through threats, subtly, and making others give you what you wanted without realizing it – that had been how he'd gotten Draco. Sometimes you had to punish and reward until what you wanted was given to you. That was how he had worked with Dumbledore.

And sometimes, he thought as he watched Draco lie there, asleep on his bed – sometimes you just had to give them what they wanted, and they came to you willingly. That was how he had _won_ Draco.

There was no fear in his sleep, not anymore. No shame in his body or of it – after having Harry inside him, what more was there to be ashamed of? Draco may or may not have been willing to sacrifice his life for Harry, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that Draco was now at peace with his place. He might argue, and complain, and be a nuisance at times, but Harry could see through that plainly. Where before there had been doubt, and anger, and fear, now Harry only saw acceptance, a bit of amusement, and – if not happiness – contentment.

He did not, apparently, mind the tail, which the cat was playing with.

Harry batted her aside with a slight scolding, and laid his hand on Draco's bare lower back. The blonde didn't start, or jump away, merely opened his eyes lazily, and let out a slow smile. "Welcome back," he said with a slow yawn.

Harry smiled at how open and relaxed the other boy was – a mere week ago, and he never would have dared yawn, or even sleep, with Harry near. "Morning, sleepy-head," Harry greeted. "Have a nice nap?"

Draco nodded. "I did." Harry gave him a small glare, and Draco bristled for a bit before soothing his own troubles and adding: "Master."

"Let's get rid of that tail, then, and make sure you're not hurt. Sound good?"

Draco nodded, shifting from his side to his stomach and spreading his legs.

Harry could still feel the chafe of indignant honor, still feel the discomfort at being told what to do, but the fear was gone.

Whatever magic they had worked last night – and there was no doubt in his mind that Draco had been doing something, he could feel the magic flowing – whatever it was had made the blonde his, and for that, Harry was grateful. Grateful and happy.

It didn't matter that he would have less chances to use his toys – less of an opportunity to use that paddle, and the ring, and the cuffs, and the leather – he would have more opportunities to take Draco willingly, and that made the loss worth it.

Although he _would_ find a way to use the cuffs and the leather – those looked to be fun.

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	6. Chapter 6

The News, Part Six

For: Baroque Isabella, .Blaise Ron Shippers., Pie Junkie, Maurizio di Lacartes, and Heartbrokenalloveragain

SERIES: HP  
PAIRING: Harry/Draco  
REQUEST: con't "The News" – cuffs and leather.  
WORD COUNT: 1942

NOTE: I had time to do this, since I dropped a class. Life should be easier now. Not quite a lemon, but very…dirty thinking. Attempted lemon, I guess I should say. Not all things work out as planned, you know?

And I'll get around to replying to LJ comments after my shower – sorry to those of you who've been waiting.

----------------break

For a time, Harry was content with Draco's new-found submission. For a time, he was even happy with it. Sure, it was somewhat bland to have at it with someone who didn't actually enjoy it – and it was somewhat strange to have an alarmingly good-looking blonde boy suck you off and not even be somewhat hard afterwards, but Harry was okay with it.

For a time.

It had all been well and good at first. It had helped Draco ease into being his pet – his slave – just plain _his_, but now it was not okay. Now, Harry was to the point of being angry about it.

After all, Draco was _his_, and if he wanted the boy to enjoy having sex with him, by the gods – it was going to happen.

"Gather some clothes, Draco – we're going to take a bath."

"Yes, Master."

Harry stared at the trunk for a moment before actually opening it and gathering a few of the items inside.

He _had_ been looking for a chance to use the leather, after all. He carefully kept them out of the blonde's view – hopefully he wouldn't realize it wasn't the tail until much too late.

----------------------------------------break.

As always, the prefect bath was large and spacious – and completely unlockable. There was a password on the door, but that was still no guarantee.

Of course, that was one of the things that Harry enjoyed – the absolute rush of possibly getting caught.

"Strip, and get in the bath," he told Draco, already undressing himself and covering his toys with his robes while the other could still see them. He pulled on a pair of silk gloves – they'd be ruined in the bathwater, but that could be fixed with a spell. Besides, he was sure Draco would prefer having the wet silk brush his insides than having oily fingers in him – which could be a right mess, especially on the sheets.

Harry settled the toys down next to one of the faucets, covered stubbornly with his robes, and finished undressing. It wasn't long before he was joining his pet in the warm water – Draco had already begun to run Harry's preferred taps, thinking nothing of the trip. They went to the prefect baths every day, there was nothing unusual about it.

"Come here." Today would be different.

There was a scowl on the blonde's face, but he dutifully swam over, keeping his grey eyes firmly fixed on a spot near Harry's throat – neither going lower, nor going higher – neither submitting fully nor challenging. He was always so careful about that.

Harry used the silk-covered hands to pull Draco close when he was near, and sit him down on the bench near the wall of the pool-sized tub. "Does that feel good?" he asked, running his fingers down Draco's sides beneath the water.

"Of course," the slight pause – there was always a slight pause before that word, "Master."

"Good." Harry placed a knee on either side of Draco's hips, and sat back on the other boy's knees. He pulled a leather arm-bracer from his robes. "I want you to wear these."

Draco didn't question, merely pulled the leather over his hand so that it covered from his wrist to half-way up his arm and tied it in place – first his left arm, then his right.

"Put your arms over your head."

Draco did as asked. Harry raised himself up onto his knees, and there was a glint of light off the metal of the handcuffs as he pulled them from his robes. Draco gasped, but by the time he thought to pull his hands down, the ring of metal was already around his wrists. They weren't so cold as he'd thought they'd be, but then again there was the leather to buffer the chill.

"There now – you can relax. They're hooked in the faucet behind us, if you'd like to know, and the leather should keep them from leaving…nasty marks on your wrists. Of course, that leather could tighten up as it dries – but that mark wouldn't be nearly as bad."

"Po-" Draco stopped himself before he slipped into that role – the familiar role of student versus student. "Master," he said, starting again. "May I ask a question?"

"You may ask, but I don't promise an answer."

"Why am I being…" the blonde searched for a word. "Bound?" he finally settled on.

Harry kissed him hungrily – thirstily – forcefully, and Draco closed his eyes. There was no fear here – there was no hate. There was only acceptance…and a lack of feeling. Harry growled. "That is why."

"I don't understand."

Harry moved away for a moment, grabbing yet another toy with his silk-covered fingers. "You have stopped allowing yourself to feel anything – pleasure or pain. While I don't mind the pain so much, you WILL feel pleasure this night – or the pain will overrule it." The dark-haired boy slipped a cock ring over the grey-eyed boy's limp manhood beneath the water. "Like it or not, you will cum for me this evening – whether it is sooner or later is entirely up to you, as is the number of toys from the trunk we require."

Draco turned his head aside, looking away.

"Care to tell me why you've chosen not to indulge yourself during our nights together? I know you well enough to know that you would be enjoying it – if you felt anything at all."

The blonde didn't say anything.

"Should I beat it out of you? I could set the twins on you – let them have their fill of you out in the forbidden forest. Or I could bring Dean in here – I'm sure he'd be more than happy to use you to his fill. That would really be fun, wouldn't it? Being taken by a half-blood – or less, since I don't know his full heritage. Not only that, but a half-blood in love with a muggle."

Draco winced, sinking in on himself. "It's nothing," he said. "It's silly."

"I don't deny that," Harry commented snidely. He moved away, and began to wash himself – letting Draco relax and mutter his way through some sort of explanation. When he didn't continue, Harry ordered him to. "Keep going."

"I…I don't think it's right."

"That a master take pleasure in his slave – or that a slave should find his own pleasure in pleasing his master."

Draco blushed, looking down.

Harry ran a feather-light caress down his back in a gloved hand, covered with soap. "Or is it something else?"

"I…"

A light breath across a still-dry ear.

"I…"

Fingers across his belly, down his navel.

"It's not right!" Draco blurted, suddenly all too eager to deny the fact that those touches felt good. "Father'd-" he cut himself off.

"Father would what?" Harry's eyes – his voice – were cold.

"He'd hurt me if he found out," was the whispered answer.

Green eyes flashed. "Your father is very lucky he's already dead – I can't hurt him beyond the grave."

Draco's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, dead? You told me father sold – "

"Shh," Harry soothed, suddenly very close and gentle once again as he pushed back strands of light, soft hair. "That's nothing to worry yourself over – let me deal with it, pet."

"Potter-" Draco had hardly gotten the word out before he was rewarded with a sharp tug up – out of the shallow water the bench was covered with – and dealt a stinging slap to his rear. Harry plopped him right back down on the bench afterwards, rubbing his arms where they – no doubt – stung from the sudden pull against the cuffs.

"You are not allowed to call me that."

"Yes master."

Draco wasn't looking at him again, and there was no denying that the blonde was upset.

Harry sighed. "I can't deal with this right now – I'll wash us both and then we can head to bed for the night. Tomorrow, I'll try and fix this."

Alarm flashed across Draco's face. "But – the cuffs –"

"None of toys – and I mean absolutely _none_ of them – will be removed until I say so. I brought some other things to fit on you as well, under your clothes for the night."

Draco hung his head, but didn't say a word.

Harry snorted, moving to wash himself. "You'd think he'd be grateful," he muttered under his breath.

He could have tried to draw things out – tried to arouse the other while he bathed the boy, or teased him a bit more. Harry was too frustrated for it. He was too agitated to even bath the boy with more than a spell and then unlock the cuffs only long enough to pull him out of the tub and re-lock them behind the blonde's back.

Pouting, Harry pulled on a pair of loose pajama pants, and pushed aside his earlier robe with a bare foot. Beneath it lay the strips of leather he'd found when he first acquired Draco, along with a leash to attach to the collar – the dragons were sulking now – and two simple, thin chains with hooks on either end.

Harry set to work. First, one leather strap tightly belted around each thigh. Another strapped around each ankle, looping around the arch of the foot. Again around each of his thin biceps. A longer piece - not leather, Draco noticed, but silk – looped through the upper arm bands and tied to itself, with Harry pulling it as tight as it would go.

Draco bit his lip in order not to hiss in pain, as it pulled his shoulders back straight, into what his mother had always insisted was 'proper' posture.

The thin chains were next, one end attaching to the bands around his thighs, while the other end of each chain attached to the ring around his manhood. Even without making a movement, he knew it would pull if he took a step any larger than a child's – and with that on, Harry was sure to keep a fast pace, just to torture him.

Next, Harry pulled out the pajama pants Draco had brought for himself. "In," the dark-haired boy commanded. Dutifully, Draco stepped into them, and let Harry pull them up. He shifted a bit, unused to the feeling against his skin, but knowing it wouldn't matter – once they got back to their room, Harry would just make him take them off again.

And then Harry took the green tie to his uniform, put it around Draco's neck, and tied it loosely. His master turned the tie to face backwards, and from behind lifted it up and over Draco's chin. "Open," he commanded.

Draco whimpered – the last thing he wanted was a gag – to be dragged through the corridors like some animal with a leash and muzzle.

There was a sharp, stinging slap to his rear. "I said open," Harry repeated, sternly. "And if you don't do it soon, I'll accio that paddle – or maybe even the crop."

Draco opened, and Harry tightened the tie around his head, the cloth digging into the corners of his mouth.

Harry looked at it and sighed. "Not enough," he muttered, searching through his things. Finally, he came up with a handkerchief. "It'll have to do," he said, sliding it into Draco's mouth to tie it to the tie already around it, and stuffing the extra into the crevice.

Draco firmly wished he could bite off Harry's fingers.

Harry secured the leash to Draco's collar, pulled on his own socks and shirt, and let his pet away.

"This is far more effort than it should be," he muttered to himself as the door swung shut behind them.

Draco couldn't help but silently agree.

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	7. Chapter 7

The News, Part Seven  
For: Pie Junkie, Feymist, .Blaise Ron Shippers., not a blessing, Maurizio di Lacartes

SERIES: HP  
PAIRING: Harry/Draco  
REQUEST: con't "The News"

WORD COUNT: 1515

WARNING: this chapter contains a SLASH LEMON. That means BOYS having SEX with BOYS. There is also use of TOYS and slight BDSM (because of how the toys are used…)

Don't like, don't read.

----------------------------------------break.

Draco was sulking in the corner, hands cuffed behind him, leather tight against his skin, tail nearly dragging the ground, collar fastened to the wall – forcing him to stand. It was…annoying.

Harry collapsed back on the bed. It was getting late, he was frustrated, and he really didn't have time for much more of this.

"I'm going to go get some food from the kitchens," he announced suddenly, getting up and pulling on a shirt.

Draco nodded.

Harry left.

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CUT (AND FIRST PART EDITED) TO COMPLY WITH FF(DOT)NET'S RULES - GO TO MY LJ COMMUNITY TO READ.

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	8. Chapter 8

It had been days since he'd been punished, but it didn't seem like it had been so long. Draco had never expected Harry Potter to be a bondage-type in bed, nor did he expect the boy-who-lived to have a kink for tying up blondes.

When he'd first heard that he belonged to Potter, he'd been shocked – stunned – but not surprised that his father would go so far to save his own skin.

He was only just now realizing that he'd never gotten a return owl – that his owl had, in fact, returned with the letter unopened.

It was sitting, there, inside the drawer of Harry's nightstand – right next to the box that held the new quill his master had asked him to fetch.

Warm arms encircled his bare waist, and a chin rested on his shoulder. For the past few days – ever since his punishment – the boy-who-lived had taken every opportunity to touch, caress, lick, kiss, or soothe skin with skin. Public or private, if there was a chance for Harry to have his hands on his pet, he would.

A low, questioning hum came from the mouth at his ear. "What have you found?"

Draco swallowed. "My…my letter."

Harry seemed to pause, brow furrowing, and looked in the drawer. "Oh. Yeah. That. Came back unopened – not that it was really unexpected."

"Why?"

"Forget your father, pet – it is very likely that he has forgotten all about you. Now, fetch me my quill, and then come join me by the fire."

Potter could have fetched his own quill, since he was standing within arm's reach of it, but the warm presence left, and settled back into the large armchair before the table, curling up towards the warm red glow of the flames.

Draco took the box, and walked back over to the dark-haired boy. Silent, nervous – his chest was hurting, and his breath seemed too short – but he'd never really liked his father that much. It shouldn't hurt that he was gone.

Harry took the quill, and motioned for Draco to sit on his lap. This was also something that the green-eyed boy indulged in since his punishment; working around Draco, who would be curled up in his lap like some overly-large bear, or a too-large and awkward kitten.

Harry would pet his hair as he wrote his letters – letters to the mudblood, continuing their disagreements, though they now refused to speak to each other; letters to the Weasley twins, who found great delight in teasing him; howlers to the youngest Weasley male, and his own collection of return howlers piled in the corners, reduced to torn up bits of paper after they'd gone off, or burst into flames. Other letters that Draco did not know who they went to or why. Homework, studies, letters – so long as he was sitting at a table and working, for the past few days Draco had also been in his lap.

That hand was in his hair again, brushing it back, curling it behind his ears.

A soft call from the floor drew Draco's attention to the cat – the little oddball that they'd picked up while searching for the blonde's collar. Smirking, Draco reached a hand down and scratched between her ears until she purred.

The sound of the quill moving against the parchment had stopped, and Draco found he was being stared at.

He blushed, but didn't protest – couldn't protest. Potter was his master. It was the unyielding truth that he had no choice but to accept.

Dry lips kissed the pink tint on his cheek, and a hand pushed the letters away. A wave of Potter's wand, and the chair and tables were instead a bed of pillows. Another wave and the comforter was off the bed and settling over them. A sigh, and a third wave had the carpet feeling plush and soft as if it were new.

The kitten mewed happily, settling onto one of the pillows before the fire and purring.

Harry was holding him close and kissing his cheeks again, and then settling back into the pillows.

Draco didn't say anything – couldn't say anything. His throat was still tight from nerves, and maybe a bit from something else. He squirmed, annoyed when Harry started to read, but paid attention to the words, nonetheless.

" 'The magic of Transfiguration has long been believed to have its roots in Transmutation, and is said to be a failed attempt of alchemists to transmute one substance into another. The knowledge of this branch of magic has been refined and researched until it has become a study of magic in and of itself, instead of a branch of alchemical study. The magic of Transmutation is still unclear, and, despite years of research, has never been fully achieved by the alchemists in England. There have been rumors of success in both Germany and Japan, but these rumors have never been confirmed. The closest England has ever come to success was the creation of the one and only Alchemist's Stone – also referred to as the Red Stone, the Philosopher's Stone, the Sorcerer's Stone, the God Stone, and other names – by Nicolas Flamel…' "

Harry was reading him a book on the History of Magic. Draco would have pouted, but he didn't think he had it in him at the moment. It was unexpectedly comfortable under the comforter, and the fire was warm, and Potter's voice, while not bland and droning as Binns' was, did make him want to drift off into a nice, cozy sleep.

Draco had dreams that night of a Philosopher's Stone, and just how history might have been different if no one had thought to create it.

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"Hey Harry!"

Sometimes, Draco Malfoy wondered why the Weasley twins weren't in Slytherin – just how many excuses could they make for visiting Hogwarts anyways?

"Fred, George. Wonderful to see you, as always. How's business."

"Things are going great – "

" – just bought out the building next door – "

" – expanding and all – "

" – wondered if you might want to stop by – "

" – pick up a few trolls – "

" – some trick wands – "

" – death by chocolate – "

" – or simply hop on in for a visit."

Really, following the twins conversations made the blonde really dizzy. It was like listening to one person from alternating sides – and very annoying.

Harry sighed. "You two aren't subtle at all. No, you can't have a go at Draco, and pouting isn't going to help."

Draco blinked – had he missed something?

"We promise not to do anything damaging – "

" – just wanted to test out some new products – "

" – so long as you order him to answer honestly – "

" – we could have a new product on the line – "

" – be on the shelf by next fall – "

"Please, Harry?" Really, the pleading eyes and the unison begging at the end really weren't necessary.

"So long as you promise it's only for testing out products, and that you aren't going to hurt him or try and convince him to run off…"

"Would we do that?"

"We're innocent, I swear!"

"On our honest to goodness hearts – "

" – and all our jokes – "

"We swear not to have sex with Draco Malfoy without your permission."

Draco went red. Only a Gryffindor could say that in the middle of the hallway with such a straight face – and the girls across the hall were giggling, and looking at him funny. Draco looked away, the blush deepening.

"Ah look – "

" – he's shy – "

" – still breaking him in, Harry?"

The dark-haired boy sighed. "I guess we do need a bit of a vacation. After school lets out though – first week of summer sound okay?"

The twins nodded. "We'll be waiting!"

Really, Draco thought, that in-unison thing could get VERY annoying.

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	9. Chapter 9

I realize that some of you are having trouble reaching the uncensored versions of fics. There is a reason for that. In order to comply with LJ's rules, I need you to tell me that you're over 18, and can read it.

If anyone is having problems with it - or just plain doesn't want to create an LJ account and join - email me at fluffydemonkitty(at)aim(dot)com, or catch me on AIM ( fluffydemonkitty ) or Y!messenger ( MistressTsunami ). I'll email you the files/discuss some other way for you to read the fic.


	10. Chapter 10

"Master…"

Harry pushed down on Draco's shoulder, shoving the barely-dressed blonde down to his knees. "_What_," he demanded, voice could as ice, "did you give him?"

Fred held up a small, bright red – well, Harry knew what it looked like, but surely the twins weren't _that_ perverse. "It's a Love Bite – it was going to be one of our newest products, but it needs a little…refinement."

"Less aphrodisiac, I think," George put in, eyeing Draco thoughtfully. "It must be reacting too strongly with the love potion."

Fred hummed in thought. "I think you're right. It seems to be missing something, too."

"M-Master," Draco pleaded, pulling on Harry's shirt. "_Please_."

Harry sighed. "When I said I would have him begging to be in my bed, this was not what I had in mind."

"Well…" George seemed reluctant to let the information loose, but Fred gave it up when Harry glared at his twin.

"There is an antidote…but we weren't expecting the aphrodisiac to mix so heavily with the love potion, so it might not be as effective."

"It will make him upset though – the typical reaction after taking it was depression."

"What do you say, Harry?"

"Care for a little display?"

"He might hate you less for it."

"He will hate us though, Fred."

"You have a point."

"Hold it," Harry called out, before the two went off to retrieve said candy. "I want to know _exactly_ what it is before you give it to him this time."

Fred and George both grinned, and looked at each other. "Shall we?"

"Mother wouldn't approve."

"Technically, we should ask for his ID."

"But who could mistake the Boy-Who-Lived."

_Smirk_.

_Smirk_.

"Well, it is our fault he's like this, isn't it?"

"We should take responsibility for our actions."

"Come on, Harry, let's get that antidote."

Harry frowned – he did _not_ like the sound of that.

"Master?" More tugging.

Harry pushed the hands away – again. "Come on, Draco. Let's see what those two are hiding."

--------------------------break.

Harry frowned – he _still_ didn't like what seemed to be a hair-brained scam conjured up by the Weasley twins. They were known for their jokes, but he didn't think they would take things that far.

"It's a standard 'Tear Me Away' potion."

"Girls use it to get out of doing hard work."

"Usually works, too."

"Oi!"

"Anyways, it should cancel out the effects of the love potion."

"He'll be too tear-eyed to get excited, anyways."

"One mouthful every few hours should do it."

"Until the potion wears off, at least."

"Which should be around midnight."

"Be prepared for lots of crying, though."

"And be sure to comfort him."

"Otherwise he might throw a temper-tantrum."

"Been said to happen."

"Never seen it, myself."

Harry sighed, rubbing at his temples. "Have you ever actually tried it with this candy? I'm not going to poison him if I give it to him, am I?"

Twin blinks. "You know," Fred replied, "I never thought of that."

"It doesn't mix badly with the love potion alone."

"And it doesn't turn to poison with the aphrodisiac alone."

"Or the candy shell."

"Or the stimulants."

"But we've never tried it with everything together."

Harry glared.

"It _shouldn't_ react badly," George amended quickly. "Most he's likely to get is a stomachache."

"How long before it wears off on its own?"

Fred shrugged. "A few hours, maybe."

"So if I give him the antidote – which it is still debatable as to how well it works – not only will he be affected longer, but it's also questionable as to how he'll react to it?"

Twin nods.

"Come on, Draco, we're going back to Hogwarts."

"Sorry, Harry."

Harry ignored their unison apologies – he wasn't really in the mood to accept them at the moment.

------------------------------break.

Harry threw his head back, burying one hand in silky blonde hair as he moaned. He certainly hadn't expected _this_ to come from the twins' little experiment, but it was something he would most certainly be thanking them for later.

After he hexed them into next year, of course.

Draco was doing such _marvelous_ things with his tongue – Harry had no idea that the Slytherin was so good with his mouth, or he would have put it to better use sooner.

There was a tightening in his gut, just moments before he spilled himself into his slave's willing mouth – and said boy swallowed all he gave him, willingly lapping it all up.

Harry stroked Draco's hair, and allowed them both a moment of rest. There was no way Draco would have done this if he was not still under the affects of the twins' strange candy, but that didn't mean that he didn't still deserve a reward for his actions. Of course, the reward would come later, when he was a bit more aware of what he was being rewarded _for_.

Right now, his reward was rest. Rest, a tray of chocolates, and a lazy night in his master's bed.

Draco seemed very pleased with this.


	11. Chapter 11

**The News  
Part Ten**

_For: franwi, and Seraphwalker_

Series; Harry Potter  
Pairing: Harry/Draco  
Request: continue "The News"  
Word Count: 854

NOTE: there's a fic exchange and a drabblefest going on over at the LJ community - feel free to come and join us, even if you don't have an LJ account!

* * *

Draco woke to a pounding headache in his skull and a resounding ache in his stomach. He was strangely tired, though he couldn't explain exactly why. He didn't remember doing anything strenuous, but then again, he didn't want to remember what he _did_.

Gods, he couldn't believe he'd begged for…

Not thinking about it seemed best, he decided, since he didn't have the energy to be properly angry anyways.

"How are you feeling?"

Draco flinched away from the voice. It was one thing to know that he served cold, cruel, conceited Harry Potter; it was quite another to shamelessly beg him for…

Harry's hand was in his hair – petting him, of all things. "I'd expected you to be a bit remorseful. Those two have a lot of sucking up to do to make up for this. I'll expect lots and lots of free treats that we could put to good use on some of those sneaky bastards down in the dungeons. Sound like fun?"

Draco didn't answer right away, but when he did it was a very hoarse "yes, master," and not one that sounded very convincing.

"Well, that didn't sound very good at all. You stay here, I'll fetch you a cup of water and some breakfast."

Draco watched the door for a moment after Harry left, a bit startled at the other boy's odd behavior. The blonde felt up at his neck – at the reminder that _he_ was the slave – and wondered just what was going on.

* * *

It was only after he'd eaten his fill that Harry asked him the question that almost made him lose his breakfast. "So…what did you want for a reward?"

No – he didn't want a reward. He didn't want to be praised for something he _regretted_.

His mouth opened once, and closed without making a sound. He tried again, but his throat was too tight to work, his hands trembling where they were clenched in the sheets, and he wasn't sure if it was anger that he was in this situation, frustration that he couldn't get out, or fear…that he would come to accept and even enjoy it. There was no question that he had enjoyed last night. His mind and body remembered, even if he hadn't had the control he'd desired, and he'd wanted _more_.

To be rewarded for that… the thought made his insides twist.

Harry's hand was in his hair again, and his mouth pressing against Draco's. "No need to be so scared, pet," he whispered. "I wouldn't force you like _that_."

Which wasn't to say that he _wouldn't_ force in other ways – that he hadn't already done so.

"Draco…what do you want?"

The kitten meowed from a spot on the floor, hungry, batting at the bedsheets, and the blonde focused on her. He swallowed. He thought.

He could take advantage of this. Harry was going to reward him, but that didn't mean he had to think of it as a reward for…for _that_. He could just think of it as…Potter giving him a gift. Except that would imply that Potter – no, Harry – no, master – whatever – _whom_ever he was cared, and Draco wasn't sure he wanted to accept _that_ yet either. …or maybe he could just think of it as paying off a debt.

He'd given Harry what he wanted, so now it was Draco's turn. Give and take. He could deal with that.

"Freedom?" It was an impossible wish. Harry would only grant him the rewards he saw as satisfactory, and letting Draco escape his grasp was well outside those limits. But everything was worth a shot, right?

Harry leaned away from him. "In and of itself, that wish is unacceptable. I think I might be able to give you some leeway on it, though. A few days to yourself, where you're free to do whatever it is that you wish so long as you stay within this room, or tell me first where you're headed."

"The…the library?"

Harry smiled. "Granted. Be sure to dress yourself first, though, and come straight back when you get hungry. I'll have Winky send your meals up. If you need _me_," Harry pressed a gold coin – it looked like a galleon – into his hand. "Simply take this coin and press it between both your palms. My coin," he held up another golden circle, "will warm, and I'll come find you. Understand?"

Draco nodded. "How…how long do I have?"

Harry smiled – and it was almost gentle. "I think four or five days should be sufficient, don't you think?"

Draco looked away, nodding. Inside, he was pleased; it seemed like Harry was banking on the fact that the blonde would grow bored in that time, but the blonde had other plans.

He was going to find out just what had happened to him – and what had happened to his father. The library should have the recent newspapers, after all, and if not, at least some books on slave-bonds and their limitations.

Even it was to tell him there were none, it was something.

"Thank you," he said, doing his best to hide how pleased he really was. 


	12. Chapter 12

**The News  
Part Eleven**

_For: franwi, honeychild4life, and iamravine_

Series; Harry Potter  
Pairing: Harry/Draco  
Request: continue "The News"  
Word Count: 1380

mostly articles, sorry, but it does help to explain a few things. :)

NOTE: there's a fic exchange and a drabblefest going on over at the LJ community - feel free to come and join us, even if you don't have an LJ account!

* * *

Draco bit his lip nervously, wishing he had something he could jot notes down on – but he didn't want to ask, and he didn't want to run the risk that his notes would be found. Harry would be…less than pleased with that.

He'd found several articles relating to his current situation – apparently, it had been the talk of the city for quite a while – but he was having trouble keeping all the facts straight, and he still wasn't sure where to go to look for information on his own servitude.

And it was approaching lunchtime. Draco wasn't sure what his appointed master would do if he missed a meal, but he didn't want to test his luck and find out – and lose the privilege to enter the library when he'd only gotten so far.

* * *

**_Death-Eater's Kiss_**__

For the past few weeks, convicted Death-Eaters – that is, followers of the late Dark Lord, formerly known as Tom Marvolo Riddle (as recent sources provide, who wish to remain anonymous) – have been tried at the Ministry of Magic for their suspected crimes and murders. The Minister was happy to announce that, of those suspected, more than half were true Death Eaters; of those, a good portion of what is thought to be the 'inner circle' of followers have been found. Those who have not been found guilty have been freed, and paid for their troubles.

The most recent trial was that of the School Governor Lucius Malfoy, who has had strong ties in the Ministry, and, in fact, in most of wizarding business.

Mister Malfoy claimed to have settled his debt by relinquishing his only heir to Lord Harry Potter, Savior, and pleaded guilty for his crimes. Lord Potter spoke on his behalf, attesting to the truth of these matters, just last Friday, and has claimed to have had the Malfoy heir in his possession for 'a good deal of time.'

"Draco Malfoy is my slave, as per his father's bargaining. This has been reinforced with the proper paperwork at the Ministry, as well as the proper rituals in magic," Lord Potter confirmed when questioned. He further requested that the press and other officials give himself and his slave time to finish their schooling and adjust to the changes, as they are both learning to fulfill their new roles. "I have no intention of barring Draco from learning, but since teachers are no longer able to punish him for misbehaviors, that duty falls to me," Lord Potter informed the press before leaving. "The only thing that stands between him and his education is himself."

Lucius Malfoy was pleased to hear that his son was being so well cared for, and though he did make one last request to see his wife before his sentence was carried out, it was with regret that the Ministry had to inform him of Narcissa Malfoy's – formerly Narcissa Black – death just before what has been termed 'the Final Battle'. He received the Dementor's kiss just this morning.

The Minister would like to inform everyone that such extreme cases are not being taken with all Death Eaters. He would like to reassure everyone that efforts are being made to help those where coerced into aiding the Dark Lord with lesser sentences of house arrest, even going so far as to suggest more bindings as Lord Potter has begun with Draco Malfoy. He wishes to make Wizarding Britain a safe place for witches and wizards of all ages, and that places such as Azkaban and punishments such as the Dementor's Kiss will become unnecessary – he does, indeed, hope that the phrase "Death-Eater's Kiss" will hold true, and that further deaths of this kind are unwarranted.

Lord Potter was not available for comment on this subject, though he has formerly expressed his approval of it in the past. It can only be assumed that the 'personal business' that kept him from comment was the comforting of Draco Malfoy, who, no doubt, is heavily mourning the loss of his father.

-Theodore Piers; Daily Prophet Headline News

* * *

Draco rushed through lunch, though Harry wasn't there to see if he had eaten it or not. Potter had enough power now that the houselves were probably willing to bend to his every need – even when that included reporting just how much his slave was eating, and when.

He gulped down his pumpkin juice as quickly as possible. Lunch he could rush; research he could not. His time was better spent amongst the many rows of books that lined the library walls.

* * *

**_Blood Magic, or Blonde Magic?_**__

The question that has been itching at the mind of many a witch and wizard these past few weeks – just what has The Boy Who Lived been doing since he defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Although Mister Harry Potter assures us that You-Know-Who was thoroughly defeated, and that there is no fear in speaking his name, many still fear to utter the name of the Dark Lord that haunted us for so long. Mister Harry Potter has no such fears, however – he has, instead, been helping Ministry Aurors track down and capture former Death Eaters – followers of You-Know-Who – and has been working on acquiring his own personal slave.

The laws regarding slavery are old indeed, but it is in fact still legal to hold one. This expensive measure, however, has been seen as frivolous and – even more discouraging – tedious. The time and effort put into training a slave so that he or she is acceptable by the law is more than the profit that is made from owning such a servant. Mister Potter, however, has been able to circumvent many of these troublesome laws with the suspicions that the boy in question – Mister Draco Malfoy, who has been described by many as 'a very beautiful blonde boy' – was involved in the rise to power of the late Dark Lord.

Mister Malfoy is, in effect, under strict house arrest that follows similarly to the required standards of slavery. There is a thin line that separates the two, which means that Mister Malfoy's status will depend entirely on his behavior.

While Mister Potter was unavailable for comment on the matter, the Weasley twins – classmates of The Boy Who Lived and Mister Malfoy – assured us that, if said line was not crossed already, it soon would be.

Mister Potter's holdings have also increased with his recent acquisition. His inheritance of both the Black fortune and the Potter fortune have elevated him to the status of "Lord" so many of the wizarding world work towards. Shortly following his graduation from Hogwarts, many hope that Mister Potter will find his place among the ranks of the Ministry, and, after gaining experience in the field, run for Minister of Magic when he reaches the proper age. He has already been consulted on several matters concerning Death Eaters, suspected Death Eaters, and their punishments, trials, and available evidence both for and against them. He has been allowed to sit in on several private meetings between the Minister and his Heads of Departments, and has been invited to the next Wizengamot meeting by the Chief Warlock himself, in honor of the favor of the late Albus Dumbledore, who previously held the position.

-Marcus Sanctum, excerpt from Wizard's Weekly Watch

* * *

It took some time for Draco to sort through everything and find all the proper papers for the second time, but he hadn't dared leave them out where someone might misunderstand – or worse, _truly_ understood – and he didn't want to risk Potter's curiosity in the matter.

He would need to put everything back when he was leaving, and search for it again when he returned. It was frustrating, but it was important as well.

Now that he was looking into what had happened, and Potter's limits – which apparently _did_ exist, if Draco had not yet crossed that invisible line – he was certain that such topics were off limits.

The question was, would Potter have let him into the library if he had not yet crossed that line? Was this just a futile search to learn that there was, indeed, no hope for him to escape?

He didn't know, but, biting his lip in worry and tense nervous eagerness, he was determined to find out.


	13. Chapter 13

**The News  
Part Twelve**

_For: lil-bugga, iamravine, Feymist, Merrymow, and franwi_

Series; Harry Potter  
Pairing: Harry/Draco  
Request: continue "The News"  
Word Count: 1685

Notes:  
1. I realize that I haven't responded to a lot of your comments lately in a very reasonable time frame, and I'm sorry for that. I will work on catching up soon, I'm just being very slow right now. As this seems to be a perpetual thing for the moment (and since I'm probably going to be going abroad for the summer, and doing a lot of school work this semester), I'd like to introduce some changes to the funk, which will be announced later, after I work out some of the kinks. We'll try it for a while, and see how things go. If it works, great - if not, I'll try something else. Maybe a length limit for myself, or something, so that I can get these finished in a reasonable time-frame.

2. This is, with the exception of a lemon epilogue, the end of this fic. For those of you who would like this to go further, I might consider doing a side-story, an after-story, or something of the sort, but I don't have anything planned at the moment. I'm trying to finish as many stories as I can, actually, so that I don't have to keep track of so many different plot lines. ;

* * *

_Many of the people commonly referred to as 'slaves' are, in fact, no such thing. The Ministry of Magic, along with the Association of Wizarding Commonfolk (commonly known as AWC), the Magical-Muggle Connection Foundation (MMCF), and the Association for Magic Protection (AMP) have worked to make the distinction clearer in the past, but, as many who are not slaves find themselves slaves in the end, the distinction has never truly held with the common public._

The above associations have worked to make those who have made significant – and yet not severe – crimes against the wizarding public face punishments that are designed to reform the criminal, instead of simply punishing. The goal is to teach the criminal how to properly behave in wizarding society, or – if necessary – how to survive without magic, either in the wizarding world or the muggle world. The differences between these Ministry-sanctioned punishments and true slavery are shown in graph 3-A.

It is clear by the reports shown in the last chapter that the rate of slavery instances are decreasing, due to the fact that most wizarding families find slaves either unethical, impractical, or are financially unable to support one. The cases of the Ministry-sanctioned "house-arrest" criminals and "indentured servants" becoming slaves increase the longer the slave spends with the family, or master. In cases where the slave has been allowed to be interviewed, most have claimed some sort of love for their master as their explanation as to why the magical binding changed. In more than 50 of these cases, the slave was a caretaker to the children of the family for the final month before the bond changed. In 25, the slave was in a family setting, and interacted with the master daily. 10 indicated that they had romantic feelings for the one they were serving. Surprisingly – for these are criminals, who have broken the law – a strong 2 of those interviewed indicated that they preferred the punishing environment their master gave them, and that they found themselves thriving under their master's strict hand, both sexually and mentally.

For more on the association of punishment as reward and sadomasochism, please see chapter thirteen.

As was stated before, not all indentured servants and house-arrested criminals become slaves. The difference lies in the way the magic interacts between both the master and the slave. As indicated by the chart (3-A), indentured servants are working to pay off a debt; the magic between the master and the servant changes once the servant believes he or she can never repay the debt to the master, or, in some cases, wishes that the debt can never be repaid. House-arrested criminals are different. The magical bond relies on the fact that the "master" is correcting a behavior that is detrimental to wizarding society – and, in fact, society as a whole. There are fourteen ways that this bond can transform, either to freedom or to slavery, each based on the "seven deadly sins" and the "seven heavenly virtues."

The seven deadly sins will transform the bond into a slave bond, while the seven heavenly virtues will do the opposite. Once a bond has been made into a slave bond in this manner, there is no known way of breaking it. The MMCF thought this to be the most harsh of punishments, since these sins would lead to further criminal acts, and decreed in 1232 that any slave bond formed in this manner, though rightful punishment, was unfair to the "master". It was ruled that the master of such a slave could, at any time, send his or her slave to Azkaban, and relinquish his or her hold over the slave.

Most often the bond will form due to a mix of the seven sins, which are lust, pride, sloth, anger, gluttony, greed, and envy. The bond will only form when one or more of these is present to the extreme. Below are some examples of how the bond as, in the past, formed.

1. lust. The slave craves the master's body, and asks for sexual pleasure as either a reward, or tries to force sexual pleasure from the master. The bond has also been said to change when the slave lusts after and finds pleasure in his master's image while the master is unaware, although this has not yet been proven.  
2. pride, or self-pride. The slave thinks himself better than the master, and does not accept the behavioral corrections the master imposes. The slave tries to impose his own behaviors on the master.  
3. sloth. The slave does not accept the corrections the master gives, and is often found not doing anything. The slave, instead of attempting escape, working towards freedom, or following his master's command, simply does not work.  
4. anger. The slave attacks the master. No matter the reason behind the attack (beating, attack on the slave, coercion, etc.), this action will be met with slavery, and most often is also met with death.  
5. gluttony. The slave takes more than what is allotted to him, often found stealing from the master such things as food, small pieces of jewelry, and fine clothing.  
6. greed. The magic here works within the slave's mind. The slave believes that everything that belongs to his master also belongs to him, and, in some extreme cases, believes that the master is his possession as well.  
7. envy. The slave tries to become his master – or another member of the family – in order to overtake the bond the master has with others. The slave will often try to recreate the master's image, and may be found trying to make others believe that he or she is the master.

-excerpt from On Slavery and Slave Bonds: Workings of Magic and Mind by Stella Marks

Draco rubbed his eyes with one hand, groaning slightly. It had taken him nearly all of the three days he had spent so far in freedom to find this book, and it was, by far, the most comprehensible he had found. Most simply described what a slave was and how to care for one, as well as some of the dangers of holding one – this was the only to really go into depth about how a person became a slave.

It was odd, too. He could have sworn he knew every book on that shelf, but this one he had not noticed before late in the afternoon.

Warm breath blew across his ear, and Draco froze.

"I see you found the book I left you." It was Harry's voice whispering against his cheek, he knew it was, but he still didn't dare open his eyes. The evidence of his attempt to squirm out of the bond was on the table, next to where he'd displayed the article telling of his father's death. He'd pulled that article out every day when he researched, a firm reminder of what had happened.

"You can see right when it first changed, now, can't you?" Harry asked, but it wasn't really a question. "Those first few days held a hint of pride, but it wasn't enough to really change it. I thought it would be, with you being so stubborn – but it was both gluttony and lust that truly changed your status."

It was quiet for a moment, until Draco realized that Harry expected him to say something. "The nightmare?" he asked – although, once again, it wasn't really a question.

"When you first used my body to soothe your needs…I told you it was a reward you chose. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was what you chose."

Draco swallowed. "And what was it that you wanted?" he asked, voice shaking.

Harry turned the page and pointed to a paragraph about halfway down the page.

Draco breathed heavily once before opening his eyes to read where Harry had taken a highlighter – awful Muggle device, really; who'd treat a book like that? – and covered the top two virtues with bright yellow ink.

_1. faith. The criminal will show complete faith in his master's orders, no matter how difficult or strange, and believes that the master will do what is best for the family. The criminal often finds restored his or her belief in the goodness of the family, and finds him or herself accepted as a member of the family, resulting in freedom.  
2. hope. The criminal demonstrates hope for the future – a healthy future, often containing in it the members of either the former family or the new family. The criminal also never loses his desire for freedom, and his hope for a better life. Because this is found often, even in those who have become slaves, it is believed that this virtue brings freedom when found_ in the absence of _any of the sins_.

Draco pulled his legs up to his chest, not quite willing to believe in what he read. There was no way that Harry could have wanted him to free himself – he had called him 'pet' and 'slave' from the start, joked about it with the twins and other students, even.

"I don't believe you," he finally said, fighting the urge to cry at what might have been.

He felt Harry's lips ghost against his cheek again – a kiss. "But I believe in you. I believe you can survive this, and I believe you will be a wonderful lover, no matter how I obtained you. All you've done is cement your position."

"I am not your lover. I'm your slave."

"I said _will be_, not _are_." He stood, and snapped the book shut. "Besides that, your training is not complete. I think I've had enough of your freedoms – you've found too many ways in which it could be abused, and while I had hoped you wouldn't, I see that you still have that desire for freedom. Now that you can see that you are, in fact, my slave, and that nothing can change that, I believe it is time I see to it that such desires end."

Draco shivered at the cold smirk that lit up Harry's face, the moonlight making it all the more demonic.

* * *

_**THE END**_

* * *

There is a sequel to this, but as it is a rather intense lemon scene ONLY, it is only available to livejournal users (or through email, with confirmation that you are, in fact, over 18). 


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